


The Winter Solstice

by LadyMiya



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-25
Updated: 2013-12-25
Packaged: 2018-01-06 00:59:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1100581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyMiya/pseuds/LadyMiya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry makes a desperate attempt to stop Voldemort. But what will happen when Hermione gets kidnapped, just before the final duel?</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Winter Solstice

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Tomione_Forum](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tomione_Forum/gifts).



> Fic is part of the Tomione Forum Winter Solstice Challenge. The true author will be revealed at a later date.
> 
>  
> 
> [](http://s1235.photobucket.com/user/daxodokira/media/WinterChallengediploma2.jpg.html)  
> 

  **The Winter Solstice**

 

It had failed. Potter had thwarted his plans again and escaped.

 

Voldemort let out a growl and cursed at one of the pillars that were still standing. It fell with a satisfying bang.

 

How had Potter even known what Voldemort was planning? No one but his most trusted Death Eaters squad had known, and not even they had known all the details. Only Voldemort himself had known the only place where he could practice for the final duel that would take place at the Winter Solstice. A forgotten temple, on a remote island north of the United Kingdom was the perfect location for him to practice the final moves during the same conditions as there would be during the duel. And Potter had come in the way yet again and destroyed his plan!

 

No matter, he would just have to do without the final practice. He would have to take comfort in his vast experience and superior skills. Potter would not know what hit him at the duel.

 

How could Potter have known where he would practice, though? And shouldn’t Potter be occupied with practice as well? It had been his idea to challenge Voldemort to the Winter Solstice duel. Voldemort had been surprised. Potter had always been a thorn in his side, constantly challenging him. But a duel? It wasn’t Potter’s strong side. Voldemort had seen him with others, and Potter was mediocre at best. He had nothing of Voldemort’s power. Thus, Voldemort had concluded that Potter had something up his sleeve and decided to practice every waking moment until the Winter Solstice. There he would be able to get rid of Potter once and for all.

 

“My Lord!” Rowle called for his attention. “We got someone. She is unconscious.”

 

Voldemort frowned and walked over to his minion. Who was he talking about?

 

Spotting the girl on the ground he remembered. When they had noticed the trap, Rowle had successfully taken out one of Potter’s friends early on. After that, everything had happened very quickly; he still needed time to analyse it.

 

“Should I take care of her?” Rowle asked.

 

Voldemort was about to nod, but then he changed his mind. “No. I want to question her.”

 

A big grin spread over Rowle’s face. Every one of his Death Eaters hated Potter and friends and Voldemort was sure Rowle wouldn’t mind taking it out on the girl. But he wouldn’t bother to gather information as well. And Voldemort needed to know how Potter’s practice was going.

 

Voldemort scowled at him. “ _I_ will question her. Just take her back to the headquarters. Have Nott patch her together if she needs it.”

 

Rowle looked disappointed, but he didn’t dare question Voldemort’s orders. He picked up the girl in his arms (he was strong, and she was quite small, easy to lift, Voldemort noted). With a bow, he disappeared with her.

 

Voldemort turned back to the scene of his latest failure, and his scowl deepened. Someone must have betrayed him. But who?

 

Well, maybe the girl could prove useful. She was Potter’s friend after all. Granger, he recalled her name was. They had been friends since their first year at Hogwarts. Perhaps she could shade some light over Potter’s recent insight in Voldemort’s plans.

 

xxx

 

The first thing Hermione became aware of was the pain in her body. Well, it wasn’t so strange, the last thing she remembered, she was being knocked out. But where was she now?

 

She opened her eyes, wincing at the bright light from the naked spotlights in the ceiling. She was in an unfamiliar room, in a narrow bed with bars around it. The bars weren’t high; she would be able to step over them if she wanted too. However she didn’t recognise anything in the bare room. The long wall right in front of her were covered with mirrors, and a handrail in front of it. She recognised the type. This was a dance studio. Why on earth was she in a dance studio?

 

The memories of what had happened returned swiftly. They had tried to stop Voldemort from practicing for the Winter Solstice duel. If he had, Harry would have lost the upper hand he had, and Voldemort would have won the duel. Voldemort didn’t yet know about the surprise of the arena they would be duelling in, but if he had practiced at that temple, he would have figured it out. They couldn’t let him do that.

 

But Voldemort had had more Death Eaters with him than they had counted on. They hadn’t planned to actually fight Death Eaters. Just sabotage the temple and run away again. She hadn’t seen how many they were until it was too late. She hadn’t even had time to react before they had knocked her down.

 

Well, she couldn’t be surprised that they fought dirty like that. They were the Death Eaters after all.

 

The logical conclusion was that the Death Eaters had taken her. If her friends had managed to take her back, they wouldn’t have left her alone in a dance studio. They would have brought her to a real bed and been waiting with pain killers.

 

“At last, you are awake.”

 

She spun around on the bed. She hadn’t heard anyone enter, and had been too engrossed in her thoughts to notice the door open.

 

“Voldemort,” she spat.

 

His thin lips curled into an unpleasant smile. “Hermione Granger. Your aggression is noted, but fruitless. This will all be over fast if you cooperate.”

Hermione continued to glare at him. If he really thought she would cooperate with him, he was sadly mistaken.

 

“Are you in pain?” he asked, stepping up to the bed, his long pale hand coming down to rest on her wrist.

 

“Of course I am, your gang knocked me unconscious!” she exclaimed, pulling her wrist away.

 

Voldemort’s smile widened. “Just as elaborated as I’ve always heard you were. Here.”

 

He threw her a bottle of pain relief. She inspected it. “Why would I trust you? For all I know, this will make me sick.”

He took the bottle out from her hand again. He uncorked it and took a tiny sip. He swallowed visibly and gave the bottle back to her.

 

“Take it or leave it. But I rather not have our conversation overshadowed by your pain.”

 

Hesitatingly, she drank it down as well. She was surprised when she felt the pain ease up immediately.

 

“Why am I here, then?” she asked, giving him back the empty bottle. “You must know I’ll never betray Harry, so why would you want to talk to me?”

 

“Because I was hoping we could help each other,” Voldemort said softly and pulled up a chair. He sat down, leaning back. “You are a talented girl, Granger, I haven’t had the pleasure to see you in action, but from what I’ve heard, you are fast, powerful and practice everything to perfection. Just like me.”

“I’m not like you,” she growled. “You are a horrible man. You manipulate, intimidate and hurt others to get your way. I’d never do that.”

“It’s a though world,” Voldemort replied, his voice growing colder. “Potter is a fool if he thinks he can make it without stepping over a few corpses. But maybe he has realised that now … you did sabotage for me, after all. You must have known your explosion might harm someone.”

Hermione felt a blush creep up over her cheeks. “We can’t let you win.”

“No, and everything to win, right?” he said with a smile.

 

“No, not everything. We only needed to destroy the temple, not any innocent bystanders,” Hermione replied quickly.

 

Voldemort smiled. “Be that as it may, I won’t ask too much of you. Just tell me what I want to know and you can go.”

 

She watched him in suspicion. “What?”

 

He leaned forward against the bars of the bed. “The only thing I need is a name. Who of my Death Eaters have you talked to? Who told you what I planned to do?”

 

Hermione felt rather pleased. Of course he would ask her that.

 

“I don’t know,” she said truthfully. “Do you really think Dumbledore would tell me where he gets his information?”

 

Voldemort regarded her thoughtfully. “So he still keeps secrets from you? Well, I’m not surprised. That was why he and I never got along. He doesn’t allow … improvisation, if you will.”

“Considering that your ‘improvisation’ has killed people, I can’t blame him,” Hermione remarked bitterly.

 

“Ah, yes, the unfortunate Lily Potter,” Voldemort said, even though he was still smiling. “She knew what she got herself into. If she hadn’t—”

 

“You killed her!” Hermione interrupted him.

 

Voldemort shrugged. “And yet, no one has stopped me.”

 

“Harry will stop you,” Hermione swore angrily. “He will defeat you in the duel and you’ll disappear forever.”

 

“Oh, if I got a penny for every time I heard that, I’d be rich. Or well, richer than I am today.” He rose from the chair. “If you can’t tell me who betrayed me, I’ll just have to lock you up in here until someone that knows comes forth.”

“You can’t do that!” Hermione said, flying up from the bed.

 

Voldemort smiled. “Watch me.”

He left the room, locking the door behind him. Hermione ran after him, trying to force the door opened, but it was properly locked. She felt her pockets, but of course they had removed anything she could use to escape when she was unconscious. Damn!

 

She looked around in the room again, wondering if there was another opening. There were no windows, but perhaps some secret opening?

 

Hermione started to search every part of the room she could find. She needed to get out. Harry needed her! Without her, their plan on how to defeat Voldemort in the duel would fail. It was a good thing he hadn’t thought about interrogating her about what Harry planned to do. She had heard about Voldemort’s extreme interrogation techniques. She didn’t want to experience them first handed.

 

“Oh, that’s right.”

She spun around when she heard him again.

 

“I knew I was forgetting something,” he said sweetly and marched up to her, gripping her arm. “You will no doubt have trained with Potter. You’ll show me what he got planned for the duel, or else … well, it would be terrible if someone as skilled as you could never use her hands again, wouldn’t you think?”

Hermione paled and tried to pull her arm back towards her, but he held her in a tight grip. She knew he had destroyed people before. In a way, it was almost worse than killing. He could take away all your power, making you unable to use it. She remembered the Longbottoms, though Voldemort himself had not got the blame for that, but some of his Death Eaters. However, she didn’t doubt Voldemort would be able to do the same thing.

 

“Do we have a deal?” Voldemort asked softly, taking her right hand into his, holding it, hard. His trademark red eyes gleamed.

 

Hermione thought fast. She couldn’t betray Harry, and yet … she didn’t want to be hurt beyond repair either. She would have to show him something else. Harry had other tricks, stuff he wouldn’t use. It was clever tricks, but they had been discarded them in favour of their final plan. She could tell him those.

 

“Yes. Okay,” Hermione said, not bothering to hide her fear. “I’ll show you.”

xxx

 

Voldemort walked into the arena, feeling confident. Potter wouldn’t know what hit him. His Death Eaters were behind him, ready to take action when Voldemort called for them. Next to him, Granger was walking, her head down. He would return her to Potter now, he had no further use of her, and her presence at his side would only anger him, which would make him lose focus.

 

Indeed, once Potter saw them, his face turned red in anger. Voldemort could see Dumbledore physically holding Potter back. He stopped in the middle of the arena and gestured for Granger to leave. She gave him a dark, bitter look and ran off to her friends.

 

Voldemort smiled and then took a deep breath. The Winter Solstice was here and before the day was over, he would have defeated Potter.

 

He saw Granger talk to Potter and trying to calm him down, but she didn’t get long until Dumbledore took her off the stage. This was a duel between Voldemort and Harry.

 

The judge came up on the stage. He was an ancient black man who had been the only one qualified to judge this duel that both Voldemort and Potter could agree on.

 

Potter started to walk towards the middle the stage as well, stopping right in front of Voldemort.

 

“I can’t believe you kidnapped one of my friends,” Potter growled at him.

 

“Then you clearly don’t know me at all,” Voldemort replied.

 

Potter clenched his hands. “I’ll make you pay for all of it.”

 

“Just like your daddy tried?” Voldemort replied sweetly.

 

“Don’t you dare talk about my parents!” Potter screamed.

 

Voldemort shook his head, patronising. “You shouldn’t let your emotions cloud your judgement, Harry, you’ll need it. After all, you wouldn’t want the same thing that happen to her happen to you, would you?”

 

“Gentlemen,” The judge interrupted them, his voice hoarse of age. “It’s time for you to take your positions. I’ve understood that this is a duel to the death?”

 

Voldemort nodded, smiling. Potter just nodded once. At least he didn’t look scared; Voldemort had to give him that. Instead, Potter looked as if he were trying to get his emotions under control. Good for him.

 

They both took their positions.

 

“On the count of three,” the judge said. “One, two … DANCE!”

 

The dance duel started. Voldemort kept an eye on Potter as he danced out his own performance. This duel would go on for a long time. A dance duel to death ended first when someone gave up or fell unconscious, usually the latter. Defeat meant that the loser would never dance again. And Voldemort would be damned if he fell first.

 

No, Potter would lose this, and with that, Voldemort would become the most powerful dancer of all time!

 

xxx

 

Hermione watched smugly as Harry staged the final plan, the one Voldemort wouldn’t know about. She had shown Voldemort everything but that, and she desperately hoped it would be enough for Harry to win. She didn’t want to dance in a world where Voldemort was the king.

 

At least, that’s what she told herself. She shivered at the memory of him holding her as she danced. He was a talented dancer: powerful, graceful and skilled. But he was evil.

 

Yet, she couldn’t help but to let her eyes move to him. His expression hadn’t changed when Harry started with the final step. He was just watching the younger man intensively. No doubt was he thinking about how he could cheat his way out of this, just as he had done with Harry’s parents. He had tricked James to perform a dangerous lift with Lily. She had fallen, landed on her head and broken her neck. James had been beside himself and blamed Voldemort. Voldemort had killed James in “self-defence”. Or so the authority had thought. Dumbledore had known the truth and he and Harry now wanted revenge. Voldemort’s power would crumble if he weren’t allowed to dance anymore. No stage would allow him to perform. His followers would leave him. That was how things worked.

 

But as she watched the duel, she could see Harry starting to falter. She flew up in her seat, gasping. No, it couldn’t be…

 

But it was. Voldemort hadn’t fallen for the trick. He danced aside it and didn’t fall flat on his face as he was supposed to. The tilting of the floor hadn’t worked to their advantage as they had planned. Had he been able to figure it out, despite not being able to practice in the temple?

 

For just a second, Voldemort’s eyes moved up to the crowd and met hers. Triumph was in his eyes. He had known all along. He would win.

 

And from his look, she didn’t think he would leave her alone once he did.


End file.
